Words of hope.

These days, I feel like most of what I see in Cub is sin. Disobedience. Defiance. Selfishness. So many manifestations of sin.

And I’m not sure why I’m so surprised or how I could expect any differently. Romans 3.

But while it’s accurate to explain his sin and fallen heart to him while disciplining and training him, I also want to give him as many words of hope — even if he doesn’t fully grasp it all now.

This means that I don’t end our conversations with his sin. I end with the gospel. I end with hope in Jesus for change.

This means that I don’t vent about his sin with others. He hears and understands. Though I might share if necessary or in a moment of vulnerable honesty with a friend, I end with hope.

My hope.

His hope.

And I don’t just speak to describe his current condition. I speak to point him to a greater Savior.

I can’t speak words of hope if I don’t see hope in every situation. I can’t speak words of hope to my sons if my eyes aren’t fixed on our only Hope.

I don’t want to use my words to drive Cub further into darkness, characterizing him, prophesying darkness over him (so to speak). I want to give life and kindness and the whole counsel of God with my tongue.

This means I don’t speak in my anger or frustration or despair. I take those to God in prayer — and to my son, I speak truth in love about what God says, not what I say in a moment of hopelessness.